Of Flannel Shirts and Chocolate
by ceceba
Summary: In which Diggle is irritated by Felicity's clothing choices and Oliver confronted with the reality of period cramps. Fluff.


**A/N:** Sometimes I have weird ideas. I'm gonna upload them anyways...I also needed some Diggle-PoV

* * *

John knew he shouldn't care so much about a shirt. He shouldn't care about a piece of clothing that was tucked into his friends skirt. But, in the two years he had known Felicity Smoak she had never worn flannel. Until tonight.

It was a simple blue and green flannel pattern shirt tucked into a black highwaisted pencil skirt, Felicity-style. The shirt hung loose on her shoulders, ballooned out of her skirt and the sleeves were rolled up. Probably because they were too long.

"New shirt?," he asked, knowing it was untypical for him to comment on her clothes. He usually just observed them, noted them as part of Felicity and went on to more pressing concerns. But, typically Felicity didn't wear things that were A) too big and B) flannel patterned. That only happened in one scenario. Which is why he went out of his way. John needed to know.

In response to his question her hand went up to the collar, playing with a button. Blood rushed to her cheeks and she bit her lip. "Yeah," she said, smiling too brightly in a clear attempt to throw him a casual smile.

All she managed to do was validating his biggest fear. The shirt belonged to someone else, someone distinctly male, and that meant that he had to talk to her about it. Talk to her _before_ Oliver got here, so he could prepare his best friend for the possibility that the woman he loved might not be available right now.

Felicity dating someone else, Palmer, he suspected, could lead to tension in the lair. John would have to act as a mediator again and he really wanted to know beforehand if it came to that.

"New shirt? I like it," Roy said, cutting John off before he could say anything. The boy -to John he would always be just a boy- went for the Arsenal display case next, which meant that Oliver couldn't be far behind. It also meant that any further discussion of the topic was delayed until the Arrow business was concluded for the night.

Oliver either didn't notice or deliberately decided not to notice. The later was the more likely option and, as his friend, John felt like he should bring it up. Talk to Oliver about it and find out how he felt. On the other hand he wanted to talk to Felicity first.

So he was silent when Oliver casually leaned over her shoulder to look at the computer as usual. He simply nodded and got his gun when Oliver told them to suit up. Banning the thought of his personal problems from his mind John was startled that the rest of the evening went normal. Up to the point where Felicity answered Oliver's "Let's head home" with a relief sigh and a "I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling too well." She was nowhere to be found by the time they got back to the foundry.

If it bothered Oliver he didn't show it. His nonchalance was unnerving. Maybe he really hadn't noticed the shirt? John figured he'd stick around later to find out.

Only this time he was kept from it by Oliver's phone. The standard ringtone of someone who didn't care about technology echoed through the Arrow cave. The other man threw him an apologetic smile and answered it. John sat down on a table, waiting patiently.

"I am," Oliver was saying. "Sure." Pause. "Yeah, I can do that." Pause again. "Huh?" Another short pause. He laughed. "Okay, I will."

He hung up and grabbed his jacket. "Thea," he said explanatory. "She's in a crabby mood and craves chocolate so I better get going. Was there something you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Nothing that can't wait 'till tomorrow," John answered with a dismissive wave of his hand. Heartbreak wasn't worth to have a woman in periodic need wait. Oliver nodded and jogged away.

If he had any suspicion about Felicity he had become too good at not showing it. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, although it meant a slight return to the man Oliver had once been. Which was a bad thing in any way and had been deemed impossible by John and Felicity respectively.

Maybe Oliver had really failed to notice it.

John took a deep breath. He would find out tomorrow. And, maybe he would have the chance to talk to Felicity until then.

* * *

The townhouse was simple but pretty with a well trimmed hedge, a wooden front gate and a small front lawn. It nestled between similar houses which lined the street to the left and right, fitting perfectly into the general image of the woman who lived inside, or so he thought ever since he first laid eyes on it. Which had been yesterday.

Oliver balanced the doughnuts and the chocolate bar in one hand to open the gate with the other. There was only a little guilt nagging inside him about what he'd told Diggle. It wasn't completely a lie. He did have to buy chocolate for a woman in a crabby, period cramps induced mood. Just not his sister but his girlfriend.

Well, technically she wasn't his girlfriend because they hadn't talked about terminology yet. Between last night, this morning and now, however, he had started calling her that in his head. It felt good and seemed appropriate and he would keep doing it until they got the chance to talk properly. Which he estimated would be in about a week.

Oliver didn't know much about periods but, between the few months Thea had them before the island and living with her since he had gotten the gist of it. Chocolate was essential, being out of it was a nightmare and hurry meant emergency.

So he got Diggle to wait with whatever he wanted to ask him tomorrow. Although Oliver had a pretty good idea what it was all about. He had caught Diggle's looks more than once tonight. His friend would be in for a surprise.

Much like he himself was now as Felicity opened the door, almost immediately after he rang the bell. He didn't know how she had managed to go from business woman to I-just-woke-up-hungover in the short time she was home, but she had. Traces of make-up lingered on her face. The trademark ponytail had been replaced by golden curls, even messier than her bed hair this morning. She had also discarded the skirt for bare legs and a glass of wine.

"Oh thank God you're here," she said, grabbing a doughnut without bothering to take the box from his hands. She tore into it with a ferocity that was only slightly less alarming than the fact that the doughnuts were chocolate with chocolate frosting. How anyone could eat that was a mystery to him. "You too, Oliver," she added between bites. "I'm glad you're here too."

He gave a short laugh, then eyed the glass in her hand with a worrying thought. "Did you take any painkillers?"

"No," she answered, "I mean, I wanted to, but all I found were some out dated aspirin. So, alcohol." Felicity squinted at the TV. "I also should go to bed….I'm just not tired and it hurts and I feel like a balloon shortly before it pops. Okay, that was a bad simile." She lowered herself almost methodically onto the couch, then lost all tension and let her head roll back. The doughnut was halfway gone.

Leaving his shoes at the door Oliver shrugged out of his jacket and, bringing the calorie bombs with him, let himself fall down beside her. Pulling her onto his lap he turned them to face the TV. A movie was playing, or maybe it was a TV show? He didn't know and didn't care.

"Ugh."

"Not comfortable?"

She shook her head. Balancing the doughnut in her mouth and him holding the wine she readjusted herself. Felicity's elbow dug painfully into his hip and he groaned.

"I'm sorry. It's probably not so comfortable for you now?"

"It's fine," he answered, kissing the back of her head.

They sat like this for a while, Felicity munching quietly and Oliver trying to understand what was happening on screen. After a while he gave up. Absently playing with the cuffs of his shirt he let his mind wander.

Oliver had woken up this morning, hoping to start the day as he had ended the previous. That was until Felicity had scrambled out of his arms and hurried into the bathroom. When she came back to bed she was beet red and tense. Ignoring him almost completely she had typed away on her phone. A little frustrated he had pulled her closer. His actions had caused the pad to crinkle and Felicity had turned even redder. She tried to squirt away from him in embarrassment but failed because his arm was around her waist, holding her against him. Pretending not to have heard the noise from her panties he kissed her hair.

Not long after Felicity had fallen asleep again. Oliver got up to make a breakfast he ended up eating alone. Both pancakes and coffee were lukewarm by the time he decided to leave without a goodbye. His shirt he had to leave behind since she had curled up in it and seeing her wear it tonight had made up for the awkward morning after.

Seeing her like that had shocked him a little when he walked into the foundry and made his heart beat a little faster. He liked her wearing his things. A lot. More than he cared to admit.

He slipped his hand underneath the fabric and started rubbing her belly the way he had seen Thea do it to relieve some of the pain. Felicity's skin was ice cold beneath his fingers so he decided to pull up the blanket that lay at their feet. She hummed in approval.

After a few minutes or so she turned her head and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you. For being a sweet and mature boyfriend about it."

He couldn't help himself and grinned. In defeated realization she buried her face in his neck.

"We didn't talk about that yet."

"No," he answered. "But, to be honest, in my head I've been calling you my girlfriend all day long. So, I guess that settles that."

Her chuckle gave way to more approving humming. as he rubbed her back too. When she spoke next her voice was soft. "If I fall asleep just turn the TV off and put me to bed. You can crawl in too, just don't hold be too tight. I might have a bathroom emergency in the middle of the night and I'd hate to wake you up."

There were a lot of things he could have answered to that but in the end he forsook every word and simply put his lips to her forehead.


End file.
